friend.”
“Call him, then.”
He glanced at the apartment’s entrance; the investigators were bringing out bags of logged evidence. “I’ll call you when I have an arrival time. What airport can we fly into?”
She hesitated a moment. “Jefferson City Memorial, I guess. Or Garrison, a smaller private airport.”
“All right, we’ll probably use that one.”
“What do I do in the meantime? Should I stay at the police station? Should I go talk to Jordan? They haven’t told me anything about bail.”
“They have to wait for a judge to decide. The attorney can get some answers for you.” He wished he lived closer. Atlanta was way too far from Jefferson City. “Just stay at the station until you’re sure they won’t let you bond him out, then go home until I call. Don’t go to Jordan’s. Do you hear me? Wait until I can go with you.”
He hoped his coming would make things easier for her. She’d carried too many burdens alone. Maybe they didn’t have a full-fledged relationship yet — not the kind hewanted — but they were friends. He had to be there for her, and for Lance. She was right. Lance was a good kid. Not the kind who deserved a night in jail.
He started his car and pulled out of the parking space. Andy, his partner, tapped on his window. “Where you goin’, man?”
“I have a family emergency,” he said. “I have to take some personal days.”
Andy frowned. “Your brother okay?”
“I didn’t say it was my family. I’ll call the chief on the way to the airport. You can handle this case. It’s a no-brainer.”
Andy chuckled. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. When will you be back?”
“When the emergency is over.”
He glanced in his mirror as he drove off. Andy stood with his hands on his hips, watching him drive away. Kent hit a speed-dial button on his phone.
His buddy Blake answered quickly. “Hey, Kent! What’s up?”
“Blake, I need a favor. Can you fly me to Missouri tonight?”
Blake, who was in the men’s group at the church Kent had been attending for the last year, owned a Cessna 182. He’d just gotten his instrument rating, and he loved any excuse to fly.
“Yeah, I guess I could. Can’t wait till tomorrow?”
“No. Barbara’s having a crisis.”
“Another one? Her daughter hasn’t relapsed, has she?”
“No, not that. But she needs my help.”
He heard the smile in Blake’s voice. “Did she call you and ask you to come?”
“Sort of.”
“That’s good, right? Means you’re important to her.”
“I’m the only cop she knows. Still …”
“You got it, man. I can be there in about an hour. Can you meet me then?”
“Perfect. How long will the flight take?”
“A few hours. We may have to make a stop for fuel.”
“Whatever we have to do. I’ll pay for it all. Hotel and everything.”
“No worries, we’re good. I love night flying. See you then.”
Kent hung up and headed home, quickly packed a bag. Barbara’s tone reminded him of the way she’d been a year ago, panicked and grieving over Emily’s plight. Trying to do what was best for her daughter, she’d hired an interventionist to convince Emily to go to treatment. Then she’d put Emily on a plane to Atlanta with the woman, who’d promised to get her to rehab safely.
When the interventionist was found dead in the parking lot of the Atlanta airport, with no sign of Emily, Kent had investigated the case. He’d met the grieving mother at the lowest point in her life, but her strength and the power of her faith and love had moved him more than any woman ever had. He hadn’t expected to fall for a woman who lived 650 miles away and had two teens, one with so many problems. And it wasn’t fair now that she had to endure another crisis, this time with Lance. If it was at all in Kent’s power, he would help her again.
He got to the airport before Blake, so he sat in his car and prayed. Praying—something he’d never done before he met Barbara—had now become a
“Call him, then.”
He glanced at the apartment’s entrance; the investigators were bringing out bags of logged evidence. “I’ll call you when I have an arrival time. What airport can we fly into?”
She hesitated a moment. “Jefferson City Memorial, I guess. Or Garrison, a smaller private airport.”
“All right, we’ll probably use that one.”
“What do I do in the meantime? Should I stay at the police station? Should I go talk to Jordan? They haven’t told me anything about bail.”
“They have to wait for a judge to decide. The attorney can get some answers for you.” He wished he lived closer. Atlanta was way too far from Jefferson City. “Just stay at the station until you’re sure they won’t let you bond him out, then go home until I call. Don’t go to Jordan’s. Do you hear me? Wait until I can go with you.”
He hoped his coming would make things easier for her. She’d carried too many burdens alone. Maybe they didn’t have a full-fledged relationship yet — not the kind hewanted — but they were friends. He had to be there for her, and for Lance. She was right. Lance was a good kid. Not the kind who deserved a night in jail.
He started his car and pulled out of the parking space. Andy, his partner, tapped on his window. “Where you goin’, man?”
“I have a family emergency,” he said. “I have to take some personal days.”
Andy frowned. “Your brother okay?”
“I didn’t say it was my family. I’ll call the chief on the way to the airport. You can handle this case. It’s a no-brainer.”
Andy chuckled. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. When will you be back?”
“When the emergency is over.”
He glanced in his mirror as he drove off. Andy stood with his hands on his hips, watching him drive away. Kent hit a speed-dial button on his phone.
His buddy Blake answered quickly. “Hey, Kent! What’s up?”
“Blake, I need a favor. Can you fly me to Missouri tonight?”
Blake, who was in the men’s group at the church Kent had been attending for the last year, owned a Cessna 182. He’d just gotten his instrument rating, and he loved any excuse to fly.
“Yeah, I guess I could. Can’t wait till tomorrow?”
“No. Barbara’s having a crisis.”
“Another one? Her daughter hasn’t relapsed, has she?”
“No, not that. But she needs my help.”
He heard the smile in Blake’s voice. “Did she call you and ask you to come?”
“Sort of.”
“That’s good, right? Means you’re important to her.”
“I’m the only cop she knows. Still …”
“You got it, man. I can be there in about an hour. Can you meet me then?”
“Perfect. How long will the flight take?”
“A few hours. We may have to make a stop for fuel.”
“Whatever we have to do. I’ll pay for it all. Hotel and everything.”
“No worries, we’re good. I love night flying. See you then.”
Kent hung up and headed home, quickly packed a bag. Barbara’s tone reminded him of the way she’d been a year ago, panicked and grieving over Emily’s plight. Trying to do what was best for her daughter, she’d hired an interventionist to convince Emily to go to treatment. Then she’d put Emily on a plane to Atlanta with the woman, who’d promised to get her to rehab safely.
When the interventionist was found dead in the parking lot of the Atlanta airport, with no sign of Emily, Kent had investigated the case. He’d met the grieving mother at the lowest point in her life, but her strength and the power of her faith and love had moved him more than any woman ever had. He hadn’t expected to fall for a woman who lived 650 miles away and had two teens, one with so many problems. And it wasn’t fair now that she had to endure another crisis, this time with Lance. If it was at all in Kent’s power, he would help her again.
He got to the airport before Blake, so he sat in his car and prayed. Praying—something he’d never done before he met Barbara—had now become a
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